eless, he once more repeated Florence's name, and tears rolled
down his cheeks.

He lay long in this condition, gloomy and motionless; and when, after
again taking a few sips of his medicine, he went back to his work, he
did so mechanically, with none of that gayety which had made him hop
on his legs and set about his murder as though he were going to a
pleasure party.

He began by returning to the bush from which Lupin had seen him emerge.
Behind this bush, between two trees, was a shelter containing tools and
arms, spades, rakes, guns, and rolls of wire and rope.

Making several journeys, he carried them to the well, intending to throw
them down it before he went away. He next examined every particle of the
little mound up which he had climbed, in order to make sure that he was
not leaving the least trace of his passage.

He made a similar examination of those parts of the lawn on which he had
stepped, except the path leading to the well, the inspection of which he
kept for the last. He brushed up the trodden grass and carefully smoothed
the trampled earth.

He was obviously anxious and seemed to be thinking of other things, while
at the same time mechanically doing those things which a murderer knows
by force of habit that it is wise to do.

One little incident seemed to wake him up. A wounded swallow fell to the
ground close by where he stood. He stooped, caught it, and crushed it in
his hands, kneading it like a scrap of crumpled paper. And his eyes shone
with a savage delight as he gazed at the blood that trickled from the
poor bird and reddened his hands.

But, when he flung the shapeless little body into a furze bush, he saw on
the spikes in the bush a hair, a long, fair hair; and all his depression
returned at the memory of Florence.

He knelt in front of the ruined grotto. Then, breaking two sticks
of wood, he placed the pieces in the form of a cross under one of
the stones.

As he was bending over, a little looking-glass slipped from his waistcoat
pocket and, striking a pebble, broke. This sign of ill luck made a great
impression on him, He cast a suspicious look around him and, shivering
with nervousness, as though he felt threatened by the invisible powers,
he muttered:

"I'm afraid--I'm afraid. Let's go away--"

His watch now marked half-past four. He took his jacket from the shrub on
which he had hung it, slipped his arms into the sleeves, and put his hand
in the right-hand outside pocket, w